


Day Twelve

by FellQueen (Nikasha)



Series: Kinktober 2019 [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mobtale (Undertale), Chastity Device, Desk Sex, M/M, Mobtale Gaster - Freeform, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 02:15:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21008054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikasha/pseuds/FellQueen
Summary: Day TwelvePrompt: Forced ChastityPairing: Mobtale!Gaster/Underfell!Papyrus





	Day Twelve

**Author's Note:**

> I’m at a bachelorette party so excuse me if I missed some typos!
> 
> Some preface: Wingding (MT!Gaster) is the head boss of a massive crime syndicate in this world and Papercut (UF!Papyrus) is his caporegime—the leader of their ‘soldiers.’ Chara is Wingding’s charge and the underboss of the syndicate.
> 
> Requested by my friend Heartless~

Papyrus was usually a dark ball of irritation, but that day he seemed almost...cheerful.  
The rest of the Syndicate were unnerved. Rather than making him less threatening, they all went out of their way to avoid him if they could manage it.  
Except—  
“Hey, Papercut.”  
Papyrus growled low in his throat. Cheerful or not, he didn’t take well to the dumb nicknames. He turned to look at Chara, eyelights flashing in irritation. “Yes, underboss?”  
Chara gave him a hard look. “What did you do to my father?”  
Just like that, the irritation melted away. He assumed a neutral expression, but Chara was dubious. “Nothing that you need be concerned about.”  
“Yeah great,” she said with a sigh. “Can you two wrap up your game, please? I’m tired of watching him squirm. It’s gross.”  
Papyrus straightened indignantly, a flare to his eyelights, but just said stiffly, “Yes, underboss.”  
“Good.” She wiggled her fingers in a wave, walking past him. “Now would be swell.”  
Papyrus exhaled through his nasal cavity. Such a brat. But he listened, turning on his heel and heading for the boss’s office where he was no doubt stewing. He knocked first, as he should, and entered.  
Gaster, known as Wingding, had already schooled his expression to perfect normalcy. He had amazing acting ability, and Papyrus took a moment to appreciate it before shutting the door behind him and locking it.  
The boss’s expression immediately fell into pleading. “Papyrus,” he said weakly, putting a hand to his forehead and shuddering.  
The taller skeleton walked around the heavy desk to stand next to his boss, crossing his arms. “Done in so easily, boss?” he asked in a stern tone. But he couldn’t keep the satisfaction from leaking into it.  
Wingding abruptly stood, wrapping an arm around Papyrus’s neck and pulling him down into a hungry kiss. “Please, Boss,” he said.  
Papyrus smirked. Only in private was he called that, and it always boosted his ego. He settled his hands on Wingding’s hips, listening to his breath stutter. “Maybe,” he purred. “Do you really deserve it, though?”  
His lover hissed, lower his head. Papyrus took the moment to gently pull his fedora off, setting it on the desk. No hiding.  
Wingding let go. He moved to sit in his chair, looking up at Papyrus with such a helpless expression, he felt his magic pulse. Papyrus reached out and dragged the tip of his claw down Wingding’s cheekbone. “Strip,” he ordered quietly.  
It was like flipping a switch. The boss of the Syndicate threw his clothes off almost in haste until he stood bare before the caporegime, except for leather strapped around his pelvis and the brightly glowing magic at his pubis. He was dripping already, hands shaking as he held back from touching himself.  
Papyrus looked him up and down, the smirk still present on his face. “Mine,” he murmured, hooking a finger under Wingding’s chin. “Were you good for me?”  
“Yes,” the smaller hissed out, yearning towards his touch.  
Papyrus pinched the bone between his claws abruptly, smile fading. “Yes?” he echoed.  
Wingding’s eyes flashed. “Yes, Boss,” he amended quickly, desperately.  
Papyrus hummed. He leaned in to kiss him, wrapping an arm around Wingding’s waist to bring them together, the heat of his arousal pressing against Papyrus’s leg. He was probably getting his slacks dirty. He didn’t particularly care.  
Wingding broke from their kiss with an agonized gasp as Papyrus closed a hand over his length. He stroked slowly as Wingding shuddered against him, fisting his clothes like it was the only thing keeping him anchored to the world.  
“Mine,” Papyrus repeated darkly. “Your body belongs to me. Your pleasure belongs to me. Understand?”  
“Y—“ His voice cut out on a whimper as Papyrus slid his thumb through the precome on his head.  
Papyrus gripped him and Wingding gasped, sockets flying open with a click as the bone protested. “Understand?” he demanded, more sharply.  
“Yes, Boss, I understand,” he gasped out. His voice caught on the words like his throat was tight.  
Papyrus eased, stroking him again. “Good.” He watched him and slowly lifted his other hand, revealing the key hanging from a single gloved finger.  
Wingding shuddered, eyelights locked on his ticket to freedom.  
Papyrus smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. He grabbed his lover’s hips and turned him, one hand pushing at his shoulder so he was lying bent over the desk, disregarding the papers and paraphernalia lying around that scattered a bit at the sudden movement. He kept him pressed down, both gentle but unrelenting, as he hid away the key again. “You were good for me, but you made a mistake, Dings.”  
Wingding froze. He tried to look back at Papyrus, but he couldn’t turn his head the right way. “Wh...?”  
Papyrus leaned over him, crushing him into the desk, and growled in his ear canal. “Chara came to me. And told me to put an end to our game.”  
Wingding flinched, sockets closing.  
“You must have slipped up,” he breathed, hand moving to slide along his captive’s hip and down his femur. “Good pets don’t make mistakes, Dings.”  
“I’m sorry!” he burst out, already figuring where this was going to lead. “Please, I’m sorry, I don’t know how she knew.”  
Papyrus clicked his tongue and slid a finger into Wingding’s opening. It was warm and he reveled in it. “Not good enough.”  
Wingding gasped, pressing his forehead to the wood underneath him. Papyrus curled his finger and the boss arched, moaning.  
“You can do better,” Papyrus purred. He set his sharp teeth against Wingding’s vertebrae and as he bit down, slid three fingers inside his lover.  
Wingding yelped and struggled, bucking against Papyrus’s body pinning him to the desk and gripping at the edge with his hands. “F-Fuck,” he whined.  
Papyrus let go of his neck, drawing his tongue over the magic that beaded up. He only stretched his phalanges a couple times before withdrawing his hand and placing it instead around Wingding’s dick. “I think you can handle it,” he purred against the bite.  
The boss whined.  
Papyrus tugged at his pants and drew out his cock, directing it to press against the opening that was already wet with desire, feeling Wingding flinch away. “Ask,” he ordered.  
The boss mumbled into the wood under his face, shivering.  
Papyrus growled and let go of his lover’s length to grab his face, pulling him up and away from the desk. “Ask!”  
Wingding gasped wetly. “Please,” he panted, swallowing hard. “Please fuck me.”  
Papyrus hummed, soothed. And sheathed himself into Wingding’s heat in a hard thrust.  
The boss cried out, but the mixed pleasure-pain was clear. Papyrus was a lot of things, but he cared for this man. He paused, letting his captive breathe and adjust.  
A long beat of shaky breaths and stoney silence from the taller skeleton. “Color.”  
Wingding actually chuckled a little, despite the tears seeping from his sockets. “Green.”  
Papyrus pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to the bite on his neck before taking hold of his bound cock in one hand, his hip in the other, and beginning to fuck into him.  
Wingding keened, clutching desperately at the desk and reaching back to clutch at Papyrus’s leg. The red-eyed monster grunted with each sharp movement, eyes narrowed as he focused.  
This was Heaven as far as Papyrus was concerned and likely the only taste of it he was going to get anyway. Never mind the warm, clutching tightness around his sensitive magic, although that was pleasant enough. He was enthralled with digging for every reaction he could find and dragging it into the open, breaking through the stubborn mask on his lover and making him show those emotions on his face and body. He couldn’t hide anything from Papyrus like this, and the implicit trust there made his cold soul hum. Wingding had secrets, of course, but he could trust that Papyrus would break him down, shatter him, like this and he wouldn’t ask about them. He would tear him into pieces and put him back together, whole and new. And even after they were back to their usual roles, Papyrus would obediently listen, like a good guard.  
It didn’t matter to him, as long as his boss was safe. Alive. Happy.  
Wingding was choking on his cries, his jerks back against Papyrus faltering. It was agonizing, Papyrus was sure, to be on the cusp of relief for hours with no end in sight. And now his euphoria was doubled and multiplying itself into a loop back over to pain.  
He gave him no mercy.  
Wingding broke. “Let me come,” he shouted, grasping at Papyrus. “Dear stars, I’ll do anything, just...!”  
Papyrus chuckled. “Finally.” A clink of metal and some shifting, and the taller skeleton tossed away the leather straps. Wingding’s gratified moan was mingled with agony and some amount of fear. “Please,” he begged.  
Papyrus was pleased, the fucked up side of himself preening at making the Syndicate boss scared. And managing to train him to ask preemptively. Always a nice bonus.  
“Cum,” he murmured and bit down on his spine again as he pumped his length.  
Wingding’s startled moaning cut out into silence as he went still, shuddering. Papyrus could feel his magic pulsing in his hand, spurting out over the desk and the floor. He purred in satisfaction and released his teeth from bone, drawing his tongue through the renewed trickle of blood. He waited until the worst of Wingding’s climax had faded before pushing him down against the desk again, bracing himself against his shoulders and hip, and using him for his own pleasure. He sighed, tilting his head back as the friction sent shocks of ecstasy down his spine to settle in his pelvis until he felt it was going to overflow. He grunted, leaning over slightly and taking in the sight of his debauched lover.  
“Boss,” Wingding rasped reverently.  
Papyrus hissed and gave a few more harsh thrusts as he came, bone hitting against bone causing a loud clacking in the office. He slowed as the euphoria faded, then stopped. Papyrus leaned over his lover and wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling the back of his neck.  
They stayed for a moment, both wheezing quietly as they caught up to themselves. Wingding especially seemed loose and pliant, limp against the desk and warm. Even when Papyrus finally straightened and withdrew from his body, he just huffed.  
Papyrus gently nudged him. “Come, Dings,” he said softly. “You need to move.”  
“Already came,” the boss said petulantly, unmoving. His words were slurred.  
Papyrus sighed. He took off his jacket and slung it over Wingding’s shoulders before carefully levering him off the desk and into his arms. He sat in the chair nearby, kicking his legs up to give his burden more room. He noticed a drop of magic on his boot and grimaced.  
Wingding leaned into his hold, burying his face against his chest and sighing tiredly. He almost purred when Papyrus started rubbing his back.  
“Want me to heal this?” Papyrus asked, fingers brushing over the stark and painful-looking bitemark on his neck.  
Wingding shook his head and nuzzled against him further. “Can do it later,” he mumbled.  
Papyrus scooped up the fedora from where it had fallen to the floor, placing it on his boss’s skull to hide his face. “You get twenty minutes, love,” he said.  
Wingding grunted. Soon he was breathing heavily, dozing. Papyrus kept his red-eyed glare on the door.  
He was an excellent guard dog.

**Author's Note:**

> List used: https://twitter.com/idek_uggy/status/1178349575725174786?s=21
> 
> Tomorrow is restraints!


End file.
